


the everything summer

by angelwarm



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angels, Bullying, First Love, H/L Fireworks Fic Exchange, Ice Cream, Islamophobia, M/M, Mild Language, Stars, Suburbia, Summer, Teenagers, scooters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwarm/pseuds/angelwarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis meets harry in an ice cream shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the everything summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veronibell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronibell/gifts).



> i thought i would write this in the style of minifics because your prompts were very cute and i wanted to mimic that sweet pure childhood feeling as best as i could without getting too verbose or lyrical. i hope you like it. let me know if you don't!

* * *

 

noon-high sunshine and louis already feels too rose lazy, socks stuck to his ankles, shirt drenched with sweat in odd uneven splotches. 

niall is pressed up against him and he's soft and warm there and louis doesn't have the heart to tell him to move, not when they both benefit from keeping so close. the green velvet couch almost swallows them both and the walls are lily white and prison-like.

the everything summer (as they coined it) is diamond perfect and smells of oranges. summer everywhere is eternally and cruelly very very fucking hot. 

*

"niall," louis yells, a rasp, ceiling fan huffing above him. "niall."

"what," niall asks, plum with disinterest and sunburn.

"it's so fucking hot, niall."

"yea," niall agrees. he spits the tobacco residue in his water bottle, tinged rust. adventure time plays a steady loop on tv and never wavers. each single hour the same episode. louis feels a little bit like a ghost.

"why do you do that? it's disgusting," louis whines, feeling difficult.

"so's smoking," niall slurs. "but i figure i'd let you do what you want. carpe diem," he shrugs, "c'est la vie. all those shitty shit phrases."

"what a martyr," louis declares. "letting me live my own life."

"i try to do what i can for you," niall slings an arm around louis' shoulder, pressing sticky into him, and the ceiling fan still humming something strange with all the windows open and ac blasting, all the hot and cold air hitting him at once.

"niall," louis repeats.

"what."

"where do you think headaches come from?"

"ha! from the headache godfather," niall informs politely. his lower jaw extends, bottom lip pouting up into a strange grimace, his eyes squinting into the strip of sunshine across his face, "i'm gonna make'im an offer he can't refuse."

"who is the 'he' in this situation," louis rolls his gold tired head onto niall's shoulder. "who is the headache godfather talking to?"

"he's talking to his one and only son, the headache godson, destined to become the next godfather."

louis watches a trickle of sweat roll down the side of his small face. absentminded, influenced by the dream haze of the afternoon, louis pushes his forefinger tip into it. niall makes a breathy noise to acknowledge him. "and the godson's the hero of the story. he uses semiautomatics."

"i'm picturing al pacino with a headache," louis grins.

"me too," niall grins back. "with a fork vein popping out or something. and a semiautomatic."

"can't forget the gun."

"it's so hot," niall tips his heavy head back onto the couch. he watches the ceiling fan and louis watches him watch it. the light has formed a crystal lattice over their bodies.

"you know what else i'm thinking about," louis keeps his stare on the ceiling.

"what."

"how right now i'm so bored i could literally make an entire cake. i hate baking. i have nightmares--"

"--because of bake sale week?"

"imagine an eternity of bake sales, niall. imagine purgatory as one big bake sale."

"what would you make?"

"anything!" louis shouts, jerking forward, niall's arm left forgotten at his side. sweat still streams down from his dirty blonde hairline, blue eyes watery and starry. "you'd have to make anything and everything they ask. for the children--that's how they'd get you."

"that's how they'd get you," niall stresses. "i wouldn't do nothing because of that."

"cold hearted boy that you are," louis frowns at him. "what if it was just your three younger brothers? oh niall, please, we're so hungry, we need those eternal cupcakes..."

"but what if i make them? then what?" niall sits forward, impassioned. "ha! please! it makes no sense, lou. they're hungry. they want the cupcakes. i make the cupcakes. problem solved."

"don't be so naive, niall," louis stands, shouting now. "something would go wrong! you'd drop the tray before you could bring it to them, or they'd be undercooked, or overcooked, you'd think you were doing it right every time and then bam!" a flourish of his outstretched arm, "your brothers are looking up at you with bambi eyes, 'niall, feed us, niall!'"

"please shut up," niall rubs his temples. he wipes the sweat residue on his blue t-shirt. "and anyway i don't believe in purgatory."

"i'm sure both exist," louis bites at his cuticle. "if you're passing through lives and you're at the in-between and you see me baking cupcakes, say hi, will you?"

"you know my immortal soul loves your immortal soul," niall smiles, toothy. he has a gap between his two front teeth that's never went away, even with braces and baffled orthodontists stuffing big pliers in his mouth. his teeth are determined to stay apart.

_"i like it that way," niall said. "i can whistle thru it. the gap. my grandkids are gonna love that trick."_

_"slow down," louis embraced him round his neck. "you haven't even had kids yet let alone grandkids."_

_"who's slowing down?" niall teased. "not me. never slowing down."_

_"okay. me neither."_

_so they never slowed down. they ate too much ice cream and ran until they collapsed in fields and made games out of talking to adults and kept true to their promises._

"and my immoral soul loves your immoral soul," louis teases. "are you hungry?"

"always."

"do you want to move?"

"not really. ree's got my scooter."

"so?" louis walks over to the door, wiping at the top of his mouth with his shirt. "you can walk next to me."

"we're a biker gang," niall furrows his eyebrows. "we can't ride into town unless both of us are on our scooters. it dampens our cool vibes."

"suit yourself," louis sighs, lofty. "don't blame me if your ice cream's melted when i get back."

"love you to the moon," niall calls. always reminding everyone he meets that they're good and worthy of something.

"and back," louis echoes. 

summer has taken its toll on the suburb. louis feels its arms around him as soon as he steps outside and shivers, the daffodils in the flower box lonely. 

louis turns the hose on and waters them. 

he feels himself smiling seeing the soil darken and imagines it must be nice and that they'll feel much better now that they have something to drink. he didn't used to think about those things. it was really niall that made him wonder after everything--yellow grass, cicadas, potholes and thunderstorms.

he's just got a big heart in that small body, louis thinks and unchains his sick flame-stickered scooter from the fence. he pockets the lock and chain and squares his small shoulders. now that it's close to one the day is coated in onionskin and hushed. 

his left foot places itself square on the little platform and with a push of his right, louis careens out of the beige driveway and into the squiggling heatlines of the black asphalt. 

*

row after row of brown and blue houses roll by. all with the same square yard and single garage. 

louis counts three lemonade stands on the way out of the honey neighborhood and into the main town, which gets him thinking about the economy, about how clearly three lemonade stands and no business just reinforces what his parents say a lot when they fight. no money making, bad state of things.

but if anyone feels bad inside they never say it. there's always copper pennies on the ground and lots of cool events where kids get in for free and sometimes they play music until early in the morning and louis' feet hurt from dancing in the grass.

maybe those aren't big enough to stop the bad. louis doesn't dwell on it.

*

town is a bunch of small businesses and a single stuck-up starbucks which louis is forbidden from going into because of events-that-shall-not-be-used-against-him-in-a-court-of-law that occurred last summer. there was minimal damage and no one even got hurt but nobody felt like being easy about it and bottom line louis is no longer allowed in.

all over it smells like cotton and sweets and shoe polish.

little ant people (children) filter out of the ice cream shops. there's two in a fifty mile radius which is too much for such a tiny town but somehow they're never in competition and the shops've stayed in their respective families for years. often, louis wishes he would inherit an ice cream shop.

he chains his scooter to the bike fence by the dull gray fountain and ponders his success as an ice cream entrepreneur. the neon dragonflies hover in the humid.

zayn is sitting on a rotted wood bench reading comics like he always is. his skinny body is covered in black and he shows no signs of sweating. sometimes--boys in the neighborhood--whisper about how he must be a superhero and he only reads comics to find out what they say about him.

louis cups his hands over his mouth, "zanie brains!" 

a smile tugs at zain's lips before he calmly marks the page he was reading and closes it. finally he turns his warm amber eyes to louis and says " _as salamu alaikum._ hey little kid."

" _wa alaikum salam_ ," louis recites very proud and hapy. then he frowns, "honestly, zain, i hate that nickname."

"i know," he smiles. louis sits on zain's bony knee for a second and smells mint and cigarettes on his breath. 'effortlessly cool big brains' is his contact name in louis' razr flip phone. "someday you're gonna wish you were little again, though!"

"when i'm like you?"

"when you're like me," zain brushes louis' hair out of his eyes. "come all the way out here for a quick cut?"

"it's not that far. and nah," louis fidgets. "i like it long. makes me look older."

"but then no one can see your baby blues!"

"not just anyone gets to see them!" louis stands from his spot in zain's lap. petulant, he flicks his hair to the side and crosses his arms. "i've become a very private person and decided not to share my life with anyone, not even my future bride-to-be or her cat which will become my cat in marriage."

"alright," zain laughs. 

louis peeks at him through one eye. "what're you reading, zee-bee?"

"league of extraordinary gentlemen," zain holds it up for inspection. "it's not very old. came out two years ago."

"exceptional," louis boasts his big word he got from the dictionary. "but you know that comic's a little late because there's already a league of extraordinary gentlemen in the world."

"oh really," zain hides his tinsel laughter in a short sigh, muffled by his hand, "who would they be?"

"you me and niall," louis gleams. he hooks his elbow around zain's neck and presses his nose into his cool sideburn. 

"what about liam?"

"i don't like his khakis," louis bites at zain's neck.

"careful," zain warns. he love swats him away. "what are you up to? it's a nice day out."

"it's fucking hot."

"language!" zain laughs. his eyes pinch up like a grandfather's. "but yeh, it's fucking hot. could you forgive liam's khakis if i said he had a pool and invited us all over later?"

"oh," louis decompresses. "well, maybe. did he really invite us? you me and niall?"

"yea," zain smiles. "he likes you. says you're funny."

"he said that?"

"yea! see? and you almost didn't become friends because of pants."

"another crisis averted," louis nods sagely. his eyes fix on the ice cream shop and he stills. "which reminds me, i have a prior engagement to go purchase some ice cream. but good sir, will i be seeing you at my expensive residence later, to rendez-vous at sir liam's for a dandy jaunt in the pool?"

"yes good sir," zain bows his head, three times in a row, "yes i do believe you will. i'll ring your doorbell. until then," he waves, shy.

"until then," louis hums. he's always liked zain because life rolls off his back. he lost his favorite marker once and didn't even cry about it and louis thought that was incredible because most days louis cries about everything.

at first zain protected him from meaner kids in school but as they get older it seems the meanness increases and they both end up needing to protect each other. it's weird to have to protect zain when he's two years older and so much cooler. 

he tries to understand when zain talks about it and all the nasty things boys leave in scribbles in his notebooks and why the school doesn't do anything. but he doesn't understand. he's never met anyone more cool or kind in his whole entire long life.

when zain saves the world, louis thinks, then they'll see. then he'll sit on giant's shoulders and eat lots of red grapes and wear gold watches. and they'll write big long books about him like they did for achilles, except more, because zain deserves even more than that.

he deserves eternal ice cream.

*

_"there, there, now," zain blots at louis' nose still dripping with blood. "audu billah," he sighs. "you have such a good nose."_

_"had a good nose," louis mutters. fresh tears prick at his eyes hot and blinding._

_"it's alright. it'll heal fine."_

_"would've been worse if you hadn't. you know," louis shrugs, unable to say it. "thank you."_

_"gotta look after each other, right? partners in crime, right?"_

_"right," louis nods._

_zain ruffles his hair and waits with him in the nurse's office until it stops bleeding. that night louis' mom cries on the phone with the principal and lots of reassurances are handed out like candies. the boys responsible don't get punished. the year goes on as normal._

_except now, louis has zain, and zain has louis._

*

the grass is wet and fresh as daydreams. louis picks a few dandelions and stuffs them in his pocket for his mom when she arrives home later. they've very pretty and smell of sweet peaches sometimes and louis has a good eye for these kinds of things. his mom always keeps the flowers he brings home.

without any other errands to run, louis crosses the street. there are no cars on the road because everyone is inside for lunch.

louis marches resolutely to the ice cream shop's blonde patio where a candy pink wheel is spinning at the entrance. briefly entranced louis stares into the shop and notices it's completely empty save for one boy leant up against the register.

louis pushes through the door and yells, "i'm here for food stuffs!"

"louis, _s'il te plait_ ," marie hushes warm sugar, "not so loud. it's nearly closing and i'd like it to be a quiet one."

"i'll be out of your hair," louis' eyes flick to the boy. he is miles and miles of unpaved road and pale awkward limbs. his curls fall into his eyes and his expression is neutral. louis trusts no one neutral.

"marie, darling," louis schmoozes, "you look lovely."

" _petit coquin_ , what can i do for you?"

"hey. we were having a nice conversation," the boy frowns. louis dislikes him immediately.

"i'm a customer. i get customer's precedence," louis elbows his way to the counter and to his immediate moonlit surprise the boy elbows back. "what do you think you're--what's your name?"

"harry," the boy with defiant green eyes mutters.

"harry, whom i dislike intensely, what do you think you're doing?"

"boys, please," marie meddles between them with her strong tanned arms. "no fighting in my shop, eh? it's clean in here, some nice music, air conditioning. good moods, eh?"

louis looks at her and melts. "yeah. good vibes."

"good vibes," she repeats charitably and presses her hands together in prayer. harry looks at him and his eyes are black glass. "harry?"

"good vibes," he huffs. harry glows beneath the fluorescent overhead lamps. louis blinks a few times to make sure he's real. he remembers a lesson from sunday school about every person being a potential angel and it shuts his hate right up.

"harry," louis directs the charm to him. his one thin eyebrow raises--something louis has never been able to do and spent hours looking at himself in the mirror attempting. "we got off on the wrong foot. i'm louis."

"louis," harry drawls. it rolls nice off his tongue and louis kind of likes it there.

"yes, lou-ee."

"like king lou-ee," harry grins.

"yes like king lou-ee."

"or like lou-ee armstrong."

"yes, like him too."

" _veux-tu de glace, petit coquin_ ," marie interrupts, maintaining her warm iciness by checking her cuticles. "where is your friend?"

louis keeps his eye on the boy whose face has opened up to him. a halo would fit nice on his head of chocolate curls. "niall's at home awaiting my glorious return," louis sighs. he tucks his chin in his palm, elbow on the countertop. "so i was wondering..."

"yes," marie's eyes with the childlike sheen.

"could i have the last batch of your salted caramel, _sssspessiale_?"

"too late," louis hears from beside him. the cold drip of betrayal is in his throat. "i already called dibs on that batch," harry grins, looking all sorts of angelic and proud and devious. louis feels his stomach twist in hatred. 

"i always get the last batch," he straightens. "always."

harry laughs. he actually laughs at him. "guess you weren't quick enough today!"

"aw, louis," marie coos, "let him have the batch today, eh? i'll make a bigger batch for tomorrow and then you both can have some. no worries."

"no," louis stomps his foot and feels embarrassed because this isn't usually how he operates but this awkward angel has pushed him over the edge. "that's always for me. that batch is always mine."

"it's not yours."

"it's mine!"

"my mom says i have to practice charity," harry murmurs. he places his palm on louis' forehead and mmm's in his mouth. louis calms. then harry opens his eyes, "we'll share it."

"you'll poison it."

harry frowns. "i wouldn't do that. we're friends now."

"we are?" louis blinks at him. "i've never been friends with an angel."

harry doesn't say anything but his grin is wide as a melon slice. it makes louis ache somewhere in his shoulders, that pure sweetness present in harry's cupid's bow.

" _c'est mignon tout plein_ ," marie sighs very pretty. "here you go, harry. louis, remember to be nice to your new friend."

"i'm always nice," louis lies.

"i'll be back tomorrow at eight," harry promises. he takes the white plastic bag from her and smiles a dimpled smile.

"alright, honey. be safe getting home."

"yes miss marie," louis assures. "have the best night ever!" one of these days his wish for her will come true and she will have a really great night.

"merci lou-ee," she calls. "goodbye, boys!"

the bell rings as harry pulls the door open and holds it for louis. he is placated by the salted caramel ice cream in his fancy plastic bag and also clearly pleased to have made a new friend. louis walks behind him a few paces with his hands in his pockets.

"let's sit for a while," harry suggests.

"i have to get back to my friend," louis shakes his head. "and empty-handed at that. poor niall. poor, poor starving niall." louis huffs as he throws himself down to the curb and sits. harry politely sits next to him a perfect square in his space. 

"marie gave us extra spoons," harry nudges louis. "we can snack on some and then go back to yours."

"i rode my scooter."

"you have a scooter," harry's eyes flare, "i have a scooter!"

"it's fate," louis mumbles bored but his cheeks flush with something weird. "gimme that spoon, curly."

their fingers fumble around each other and louis gently takes harry's hands in his own and puts them in his lap. he ignores harry's bemused jeweled eyes and reaches in the bag for his spoon and opens up the lid of the giant tub of ice cream.

it's dusk now and louis is sure niall has fallen asleep on the couch. above the trees is all rushing gold and candy pink and glittering. louis has a passing thought that this is like that moment in movies when two people are going to kiss.

he glances at harry to find him happily licking at a mound of ice cream on his spoon. their eyes slot together in amusement and louis mimics him and they laugh, all the prior resentment from the earlier confrontation having thinned out into nothing.

"every star is an angel," harry says.

louis looks up at him and sees harry gazing at the sky. he is coated in pink and again louis has that feeling that he should kiss him even though he's never kissed anybody besides his mom or his sister when she's crying and needs a band-aid. 

"what," louis says and feels silver shy.

"every star," harry points upwards, "is an angel."

"who told you that?"

"my mom. my dad's an angel," harry says. "and he's up there. see him?" he points again to what louis has always assumed to be the north star because it's the biggest and brightest.

"that star's the biggest and brightest," louis informs him.

"it's because he loves me very much," harry grins and lowers his arm and looks to louis like it's nothing to have a dad that lives in the sky.

there's something that crawls around in louis' throat, an urge to tell him that it's impossible and that harry's dad is where louis' dad is which is in the cold blue cemetery an hour away from here. but then louis thinks on it and realizes he doesn't know for sure where anybody goes and presses his fingers into the crook of harry's elbow very soft.

"that's a really big love, harry," louis whispers.

"yeah."

louis sniffs. "my dad's up there too."

"really?"

impossible boy with those big glass eyes. louis finds himself staring at harry for too long and his fingers tighten on harry's milk skin. harry's stare falters and he looks up to the sky. "let me guess," he offers.

after a little while of louis watching harry scan the expanse of young stars he exclaims and points to one that is yellowed and bigger and brighter than all of them, even harry's. "that's your dad! i can feel it," harry smiles.

deep deep in his neck louis feels warm and glad at having met harry today and it's only been the first day of knowing him.

"yeah," louis swallows. "that's him. how'd you know?"

"because i've figured you out, you know. you're easy to love!" a laugh star bursts out of harry's raspberry mouth. "any dad would have to love a son like you so, so, so, so, so much. it's science," harry concludes and goes back to eating his ice cream.

they sit for a long wondrous silence. the cold ice cream numbing louis' top lip and the cars whooshing by with bits of radio play trailing after them. the sky slinks into dark blues and the shops close down. then harry intertwines their fingers and louis lets him.

*

the scooter-ride home is pleasant. gravel crumbles underneath their wheels and for minutes on end they settle into flowery silence and louis likes that he doesn't have to talk so much.

nighttime is languid and peaceful and full of goodness rarely afforded in the daytime. most miracles must be made in the dark.

"favorite way to take your eggs," harry says. 

they've slowed down now, eager to make the ride last, as they cross the crest into the suburb where louis lives.

"um, scrambled," louis says.

"figures," harry smiles. "i like sunny side-up."

"figures," louis echoes.

"i like to dip toast in the yolk."

"what kind of toast?"

"white toast is good."

"good answer. thought you might say something weird like seven grain," louis pushes himself farther forward with a blunt foot. "hate that stuff."

"it's good for you," harry argues. then he says quiet, "but i don't like it either."

"my turn. favorite donut."

"long johns!" harry exclaims, a sense of awe coloring his tone pink. "i could eat, like, six of 'em in one sitting."

"that's excessive," louis laughs. 

just up ahead he can see the pale end of his driveway and he hates having to end this privacy. he knows so much about harry and yet so little and right now he wants to live in this warm honey world and not have to go back to the real one.

"what about you?"

"what about me?" 

"you didn't say your favorite donut," harry exhales, skidding his scooter to a stop and holding it in his hand. he's walking the rest of the way to save time, louis can see it in the anxious pallor of his eyelids and louis is so, so grateful. 

he hops off his scooter and hums, "well. guess i'm a regular donut fan myself. i like just a regular donut with chocolate glaze and all the fun sprinkles and stuff."

"that's a good one," harry agrees. "am i invited to liam's too?"

"of course you are," louis winds an arm around his waist and guides him to louis' front lawn where the daffodils stand taller and the grass is soft green. he opens the door and steps half inside, "you're my friend now. you go where i go."

"all the time? won't you get tired of me?" harry pauses outside. mosquitoes flit all around his moon face.

"not a chance, little starling," louis holds out his hand. "come meet the boys."

there's a wine-red tilt to the earth's axis in that long minute harry stays looking at louis' hand and his eyes flicker over every part and particle of him. vulnerable--. louis feels laid out and bare in the naked night waiting for harry to take his hand and when he does, louis can't hide his grin for anything.

because that happiness--the ivory and lavender happiness that began that afternoon in an ice cream shop--louis comes to understand is a happiness that belongs solely to harry.

the door swings shut behind them and they walk into the main room with fingers linked tight and grins full of secrets. the television still runs adventure time and liam still wears his khakis.

for hours they swim in liam's pool, teeth and eye whites lit up by the lamps on liam's back porch. and the everything summer continues like that. swimming in liam's pool, watching spiders make webs, making weird sandwiches. they never slow down for anything.

*

in august, a week before the everything summer ends, louis is unwrapping plastic from his schoolbooks when harry sulks into his room and collapses on his bed.

"hey, hazza."

"mmh," is his answer.

louis smiles small to himself. he abandons his task and aligns himself next to harry's warm body. the bed creaks beneath them. “what's up, starling," louis murmurs.

harry turns his head to look at him, eyes watery and lidded. "it was a really good summer."

"yes," louis fights a grin, "it was."

"and now it's ending."

"yes."

"and we're going back to school," harry sniffs away false tears. he only gets this way when he needs louis to pay attention to him and louis could never refuse him that.

"yes, we are." louis shuffles forward and traps harry's hand in his own. they’re so young, he realizes, but between them it feels like he’s lived one hundred forevers.

"and everything's changing."

"oh, not everything," louis pulls him in close. "we'll all still be friends, won't we? that won't change, will it?" his fingers work soft and silk through harry's hair. it lulls harry into someplace before sleep and louis thinks about falling into a dream with him and leaving his reading for tomorrow.

not much seems important whenever harry is around to occupy him.

"louis?"

"yes," louis glances down at harry. his eyes are closed, eyelashes thick and black against his skin.

"you're th'best person i ever met," harry settles into louis’ chest, his nose dragging at his neck. 

“don’t worry about anything. good things are gonna happen,” louis shuts his eyes and imagines them behind the lids. after-school soccer, eating lunch at the same table, passing notes. all of it. “you’ll see.”

“promise,” harry mumbles, but he’s far away now, sliding into a nice dream.

“promise,” louis replies.

they fall asleep like that, perfect and happy in the lingering dark.

*

*

*


End file.
